Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Whodini to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Steve Hackett,
Juan Atkins,
X-Ray Spex,
The Toasters,
Lalann,
Panda Bear,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Reagan Youth,
Main Source,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Christie,
Alison Limerick,
Black Sheep,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rod Modell,
China Crisis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
X-101,
The Victims,
Kurtis Blow,
Chrome,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Das Ding,
Jandek,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mr. Review,
Jacques Brel,
AZ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Dave Gahan,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
ABC,
Colin Newman,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.